Gillian Polack's Blog, page 6
July 26, 2016
gillpolack @ 2016-07-27T13:00:00
In class today my students discovered 21 words for 'nothing.' Their homework is to discover the correct way of using the words. "Nothing, " I said, "Your homework is nothing." I blame the virus that one of my students has generously shared with us all. By 'us all' I include myself. It appears I am not only off colour, but that half the class had been infected. Only one student failed to turn up, but we were all sub-par.
Despite this, the booklet celebrating turning 10 has already been finished (yay for A, who did all the work) and we rejoiced in them and I got everyone to sign mine. "I don't know how to do this," one said. "I you're writer," I answered, "you need to know how to give an author's signature on your own work." My reward was an abashed smile. Their reward was twenty minutes on the use of the possessive apostrophe, for one was left out. My students turn up halfway towards nothingness and I less them on the use of apostrophes...
Our book of the day ("Read this, it's good for you and the library has at least one copy") was Jeff VanderMeer's Annihilation.
My reward for all this endeavour while off-colour was a major sticking point in my fiction being solved on the way home. I'm not able to write new prose yet, but when I have time and strength it looks as if there will be stuff to write. I'm reaching the stage of obnoxiousness, so I hope I'll be able tow rite soon. I read perfectly wonderful prose by others and discover three other ways it could have been written and work out why they would work for this, that or the other reason and I get angry with small flaws and... I know that it's time to write myself. When I'm writing, I'm a much better critic. When I need to write it's all about how the other writer is not me and didn't do things my way. I do not write new critical material when I'm in this state. And so I have an extra reason to get better fast enough to get back to fiction. I'll be increasingly a pain to be around until I can write again.
I'm impressed the irritating side of me has been in abeyance this long. It's the longest time in my adult life. I think this means I was very seriously ill. And now I'm getting better my capacity for grunge writing is getting larger by the week.
The rest of today is about my rest and my exercises and about catching up with the work stuff that I fell behind on before I realised I had a virus. My aim is to be completely caught up by Friday, purely so that I can have new things to fall behind on. I'm not entirely used to falling behind, to be honest, and it makes me jumpy. The sooner I'm caught up the less unhappy I'll be. Also, the sooner I'm over this idiot virus. While I'm very thankful it's my first this winter (given that the closer to the operation I had it the worse the effects would have been) I would still rather not get illnesses right now. I guess that this means I might be irritable today and tomorrow and that telephishers would be wiser to try someone else's number. I might do more than simply persuading them to apologise and hang up.
Despite this, the booklet celebrating turning 10 has already been finished (yay for A, who did all the work) and we rejoiced in them and I got everyone to sign mine. "I don't know how to do this," one said. "I you're writer," I answered, "you need to know how to give an author's signature on your own work." My reward was an abashed smile. Their reward was twenty minutes on the use of the possessive apostrophe, for one was left out. My students turn up halfway towards nothingness and I less them on the use of apostrophes...
Our book of the day ("Read this, it's good for you and the library has at least one copy") was Jeff VanderMeer's Annihilation.
My reward for all this endeavour while off-colour was a major sticking point in my fiction being solved on the way home. I'm not able to write new prose yet, but when I have time and strength it looks as if there will be stuff to write. I'm reaching the stage of obnoxiousness, so I hope I'll be able tow rite soon. I read perfectly wonderful prose by others and discover three other ways it could have been written and work out why they would work for this, that or the other reason and I get angry with small flaws and... I know that it's time to write myself. When I'm writing, I'm a much better critic. When I need to write it's all about how the other writer is not me and didn't do things my way. I do not write new critical material when I'm in this state. And so I have an extra reason to get better fast enough to get back to fiction. I'll be increasingly a pain to be around until I can write again.
I'm impressed the irritating side of me has been in abeyance this long. It's the longest time in my adult life. I think this means I was very seriously ill. And now I'm getting better my capacity for grunge writing is getting larger by the week.
The rest of today is about my rest and my exercises and about catching up with the work stuff that I fell behind on before I realised I had a virus. My aim is to be completely caught up by Friday, purely so that I can have new things to fall behind on. I'm not entirely used to falling behind, to be honest, and it makes me jumpy. The sooner I'm caught up the less unhappy I'll be. Also, the sooner I'm over this idiot virus. While I'm very thankful it's my first this winter (given that the closer to the operation I had it the worse the effects would have been) I would still rather not get illnesses right now. I guess that this means I might be irritable today and tomorrow and that telephishers would be wiser to try someone else's number. I might do more than simply persuading them to apologise and hang up.
July 25, 2016
gillpolack @ 2016-07-26T14:50:00
A telephisher rang me when I was working and thus got me in teacher mode.
"I'm ringing concerning an accident."
"What organisation are you ringing from? Can you tell me more?"
I'm ringing from Common Law Firm in Sydney. I am ringing concerning an accident you had in the last two years."
"Can you tell me more? Who are you ringing?"
"I'm ringing Mrs Polack."
"Are you sure you have the right person?"
"I'm ringing Mrs Polack."
"Yes, but I'm Dr Polack, not Mrs Polack. I haven't had an accident in the last two years. Maybe you have the wrong number. What kind of accident are you referring to?"
"A car accident."
"Now I know you have the wrong person. I'm not Mrs Polack and I do not own a car. I'm very sorry."
"I'm sorry to have wasted your time." And she politely hung up.
Now, what was I in the middle of before I was interrupted? And have I ever said how handy a PhD can be when one doesn't want to get into arguments about marital status and common courtesies? Also when one wants to be certain the call is not genuine. For it could be. I do not know why it's harder to lie to Dr Polack than to Mrs Polack, but for some reason scammers find it so.
I do wonder, however, what I would have said if I'd been in writing mode, especially since I'm working on a very grumpy alien character right now. All suggestions for how the dialogue might have occurred will be accepted, though some may be accepted with less grace than others.
"I'm ringing concerning an accident."
"What organisation are you ringing from? Can you tell me more?"
I'm ringing from Common Law Firm in Sydney. I am ringing concerning an accident you had in the last two years."
"Can you tell me more? Who are you ringing?"
"I'm ringing Mrs Polack."
"Are you sure you have the right person?"
"I'm ringing Mrs Polack."
"Yes, but I'm Dr Polack, not Mrs Polack. I haven't had an accident in the last two years. Maybe you have the wrong number. What kind of accident are you referring to?"
"A car accident."
"Now I know you have the wrong person. I'm not Mrs Polack and I do not own a car. I'm very sorry."
"I'm sorry to have wasted your time." And she politely hung up.
Now, what was I in the middle of before I was interrupted? And have I ever said how handy a PhD can be when one doesn't want to get into arguments about marital status and common courtesies? Also when one wants to be certain the call is not genuine. For it could be. I do not know why it's harder to lie to Dr Polack than to Mrs Polack, but for some reason scammers find it so.
I do wonder, however, what I would have said if I'd been in writing mode, especially since I'm working on a very grumpy alien character right now. All suggestions for how the dialogue might have occurred will be accepted, though some may be accepted with less grace than others.
gillpolack @ 2016-07-26T12:10:00
I'm still catching up with things from March. I have just one or two urgent things to go and they get harder and harder as time passes. It also gets harder to do the straightforward paperwork, because I've got this sense of never being quite caught up. There's one particular article that's causing me too many problems, but until it's done, I can't turn to the others (the stuff that was beginning to be due around August).
I'm doing some rethinking, along with the catching up. The seventeenth century novel has to wait. It's high intensity in terms of work and I can't do it yet. It's that simple. If I wrote it now, I'd write it badly. Next year or the year after I'll be able to write a good novel on that theme, for all the different parts of my brain will be able to work together. This means that my writing is turning to another contemporary novel. I had two begun (barely) and have decided to focus on the gendered one, for I really need to sort out those issues. Also, this is the perfect year for writing in the voice of an angry alien who is frustrated by the limitations of human bodies and human lives. (Most of the novel won't be in that voice - just enough to annoy people.) I'm nearly 5,000 words in and will take a break at 15,000 for that will be most of that voice. This is the novel that was speaking to me the night before surgery. I was supposed to be launching my Wizardry novel (news of which is definitely forthcoming soon) and instead I was listening to an old woman dying and was being shaved in interesting places. I wasn't allowed to wear off my nerves by walking, for I was hooked up to various things and besides, the hospital was worried about me and didn't want me to go away even for a second, so I lay there, looking up at the television (this was the only ward I had a television), listening to my neighbour try valiantly to hang on, being interrupted by various preparations, realising that some of the weirdness was PMT and that the hallucinations were from medication and wondering just how strange life can become. At that moment this novel (which was had already taken some shape in the weeks before) announced a bunch of things to me. These are the things I'm dealing with now. The rest of the novel isn't even a small part of the way there, because I was focussing on the other novel. Life does this.
I think this novel might contain a deal of bleakness. This is why I have to write it. being grateful to be alive and able to live life fully is one thing, but the path I took to get here is also a bit of who I am.
It's not just my papers I'm catching up with.
I'm doing some rethinking, along with the catching up. The seventeenth century novel has to wait. It's high intensity in terms of work and I can't do it yet. It's that simple. If I wrote it now, I'd write it badly. Next year or the year after I'll be able to write a good novel on that theme, for all the different parts of my brain will be able to work together. This means that my writing is turning to another contemporary novel. I had two begun (barely) and have decided to focus on the gendered one, for I really need to sort out those issues. Also, this is the perfect year for writing in the voice of an angry alien who is frustrated by the limitations of human bodies and human lives. (Most of the novel won't be in that voice - just enough to annoy people.) I'm nearly 5,000 words in and will take a break at 15,000 for that will be most of that voice. This is the novel that was speaking to me the night before surgery. I was supposed to be launching my Wizardry novel (news of which is definitely forthcoming soon) and instead I was listening to an old woman dying and was being shaved in interesting places. I wasn't allowed to wear off my nerves by walking, for I was hooked up to various things and besides, the hospital was worried about me and didn't want me to go away even for a second, so I lay there, looking up at the television (this was the only ward I had a television), listening to my neighbour try valiantly to hang on, being interrupted by various preparations, realising that some of the weirdness was PMT and that the hallucinations were from medication and wondering just how strange life can become. At that moment this novel (which was had already taken some shape in the weeks before) announced a bunch of things to me. These are the things I'm dealing with now. The rest of the novel isn't even a small part of the way there, because I was focussing on the other novel. Life does this.
I think this novel might contain a deal of bleakness. This is why I have to write it. being grateful to be alive and able to live life fully is one thing, but the path I took to get here is also a bit of who I am.
It's not just my papers I'm catching up with.
July 23, 2016
When the New becomes the Same-Old
I've reached the stage where I'm tired of the Not-Quite-New Black in SFF. I would very much like publishers to stop pushing gritty urban noir fantasy at me right now, whether it has elves or not, whether it's derived from ancient gods or not, whether it's set in London (which most are) or somewhere else. I've loved this sub-genre for a fair while in book terms, but there comes a moment when you read something sparkling new and it feels you've read it before. Just to clarify, I'm not talking about the moment it becomes clear that a sub-genre has codified and events are predictable: that was three years ago for my particular example. Now it's "I need to come back to this book when I can read it for what it is, rather than expecting it to be dangerous and new." The problem with reading novels as dangerous and new when they're not is one starts to look for flaws. Not even the best-written novel can stand up to this.
There's another style of book I'm tired of, but this second type is much harder to pin down. Some groups of writers develop their own style. I read the first novel by one of them and that author gets all the advantage of newness. I tell everyone "read this author." Then I find other books by the same closed circle and I discover that they've infected each other with style traits in their beta reading process. Sometimes this is good, but more often it means that reading more than one writer from a given circle feels like reading story after story that are the same.
I've worried about this before. I've been working on teaching methods to break this down. While it's nice to know I can break it down and can ensure it doesn't affect my writing (all my faults are, alas, mine own) it doesn't help when I encounter it in others.
Often it's linked to a teaching writer surrounded by non-teaching writers. The teaching writer doesn't realise they're teaching their own method of writing and only their own method of writing. It's the main reason I do fewer writing exercises in my classes than I used to, for I discovered that it was when I corrected exercises that I pushed writers towards my perfect text. I'm coming out the other door on that, for I've been working on to improve my teaching in this regard. My priority now is to find out who people are, how they write, where they want to go as writers and what kinds of paths they have open given their abilities and background and can open given their aptitude for language and learning. I analyse their speech and their attitude to language and people as well as their writing, for I need to know what they can be if I don't want them to become me. And I load them with tools that can be twisted into various direction so that they are forced to make choices for themselves before they use those tools. And it works. All my Wednesday students have their own voice, despite years of Gillian.
Only one writing circle out of maybe ten becomes this inward-looking self-replicating story-telling machine. That one, however, makes me weep. I deal with it by never reading books by these authors within 2-3 months of each other. Sometimes I have to leave books for two years.
It's not a sufficient way of dealing. It's the best I can do.
When I discover writing groups that don't have this inwardness, I grab everything I can by every single writer in the group for I know the various writers in the group will be the richer for the interaction.
The first few pages of any new book is checking to see if that novel is not-quite-new or whether there is an inward writing circle involved. Discovering either of these things will entirely change the way I read a book.
There's another style of book I'm tired of, but this second type is much harder to pin down. Some groups of writers develop their own style. I read the first novel by one of them and that author gets all the advantage of newness. I tell everyone "read this author." Then I find other books by the same closed circle and I discover that they've infected each other with style traits in their beta reading process. Sometimes this is good, but more often it means that reading more than one writer from a given circle feels like reading story after story that are the same.
I've worried about this before. I've been working on teaching methods to break this down. While it's nice to know I can break it down and can ensure it doesn't affect my writing (all my faults are, alas, mine own) it doesn't help when I encounter it in others.
Often it's linked to a teaching writer surrounded by non-teaching writers. The teaching writer doesn't realise they're teaching their own method of writing and only their own method of writing. It's the main reason I do fewer writing exercises in my classes than I used to, for I discovered that it was when I corrected exercises that I pushed writers towards my perfect text. I'm coming out the other door on that, for I've been working on to improve my teaching in this regard. My priority now is to find out who people are, how they write, where they want to go as writers and what kinds of paths they have open given their abilities and background and can open given their aptitude for language and learning. I analyse their speech and their attitude to language and people as well as their writing, for I need to know what they can be if I don't want them to become me. And I load them with tools that can be twisted into various direction so that they are forced to make choices for themselves before they use those tools. And it works. All my Wednesday students have their own voice, despite years of Gillian.
Only one writing circle out of maybe ten becomes this inward-looking self-replicating story-telling machine. That one, however, makes me weep. I deal with it by never reading books by these authors within 2-3 months of each other. Sometimes I have to leave books for two years.
It's not a sufficient way of dealing. It's the best I can do.
When I discover writing groups that don't have this inwardness, I grab everything I can by every single writer in the group for I know the various writers in the group will be the richer for the interaction.
The first few pages of any new book is checking to see if that novel is not-quite-new or whether there is an inward writing circle involved. Discovering either of these things will entirely change the way I read a book.
July 21, 2016
gillpolack @ 2016-07-22T15:23:00
I have just one hour of work to do today and I'm all caught up with myself. And I have so much food!
Someone dropped in carrying what she said was a small box of things. It was so much wonderful stuff. Fresh cherries, lamb shanks, a cantelope, gold kiwi fruit, mushrooms, a loaf of bread, potatoes, a couple of baby muffins, some rissoles and a whole pumpkin. I will top up at the market tomorrow and then I'm fine for a week or longer. Given I just had that rather nasty little reaction to doing too much, this box takes a load off my mind. I can cook over the weekend and eat delicious home made leftovers on the busier days. Since I was otherwise going to rely on freezer food (which I'm a bit tired of, just now - I reached my limit a couple of weeks ago) this is perfect.
My plans include Spanish-style lambshanks on a bed of mashed vegetables (for Sunday and Monday, which will be cold in the evenings), pasta with chicken-mushroom sauce, guacamole and tomato sandwiches, and salads with eggs and pecans. Breakfast will be oats with chia. Thanks to this very nice person, I feel as if I've fully returned. Before my life went awry I used to do all my shopping and cooking over a couple of days and then choose what I wanted from the splendid prepared food and eat luxuriously all week.
I'm a very happy vegemite.
Someone dropped in carrying what she said was a small box of things. It was so much wonderful stuff. Fresh cherries, lamb shanks, a cantelope, gold kiwi fruit, mushrooms, a loaf of bread, potatoes, a couple of baby muffins, some rissoles and a whole pumpkin. I will top up at the market tomorrow and then I'm fine for a week or longer. Given I just had that rather nasty little reaction to doing too much, this box takes a load off my mind. I can cook over the weekend and eat delicious home made leftovers on the busier days. Since I was otherwise going to rely on freezer food (which I'm a bit tired of, just now - I reached my limit a couple of weeks ago) this is perfect.
My plans include Spanish-style lambshanks on a bed of mashed vegetables (for Sunday and Monday, which will be cold in the evenings), pasta with chicken-mushroom sauce, guacamole and tomato sandwiches, and salads with eggs and pecans. Breakfast will be oats with chia. Thanks to this very nice person, I feel as if I've fully returned. Before my life went awry I used to do all my shopping and cooking over a couple of days and then choose what I wanted from the splendid prepared food and eat luxuriously all week.
I'm a very happy vegemite.
gillpolack @ 2016-07-21T23:38:00
I definitely overdid things yesterday. It wasn't the teaching: it was travelling in busses for well over an hour. Why is a bus harder than a car? Seatbelts. This means I'll be flying to Melbourne in September. What will I be doing in Melbourne in September? Book related stuff. Watch this space, Melbourne friends. It's the first weekend in September and it's shaping up to be very interesting.
Was the extra teaching last night worth the pain and the worry about healing and the discovery that I'm taking a bit longer to instantly get better than I expected? Absolutely. If students get that much out of a short class when I'm off-colour, it's all going to be magic in a month. And both those comments and the feedback from the Saturday workshop really demonstrate why I need to teach in a regular full-time job.
I'm doing good work in my one regular teaching gig, I think. My Wednesday class and I celebrated my tenth anniversary yesterday (did I say?) and we ate chocolate. They wrote some lovely reflections on their writing and how it has developed. They decided that the reflections they did on how their writing has grown should be compiled into a little booklet. One of the students said "Leave this with me." So I get a celebratory booklet by my students to celebrate ten years, and it's going to consist of their reflections on learning. Most of these students begin the class without even the confidence to read aloud, much less to analyse their own achievements with any level of comfort. What more could one ask?
I decided that this term my Wednesday group will write science fiction and science fantasy and our final excursion for the term will be all about Dr Who. This means I can wear SF t-shirts all term. It also means I can reinforce their story-telling skills without them being too aware or embarrassed that I'm working on stuff they might not have processed fully the first time round.
Possibly most importantly, I announced the term's theme by demonstrating clearly that none of the class are either vampires or werewolves. Even adults can be disappointed at such discoveries, it seems, and I've ruined at least one student's dreams.
The main danger this term is to my TARDIS backpack. Two students are eyeing it off...
Was the extra teaching last night worth the pain and the worry about healing and the discovery that I'm taking a bit longer to instantly get better than I expected? Absolutely. If students get that much out of a short class when I'm off-colour, it's all going to be magic in a month. And both those comments and the feedback from the Saturday workshop really demonstrate why I need to teach in a regular full-time job.
I'm doing good work in my one regular teaching gig, I think. My Wednesday class and I celebrated my tenth anniversary yesterday (did I say?) and we ate chocolate. They wrote some lovely reflections on their writing and how it has developed. They decided that the reflections they did on how their writing has grown should be compiled into a little booklet. One of the students said "Leave this with me." So I get a celebratory booklet by my students to celebrate ten years, and it's going to consist of their reflections on learning. Most of these students begin the class without even the confidence to read aloud, much less to analyse their own achievements with any level of comfort. What more could one ask?
I decided that this term my Wednesday group will write science fiction and science fantasy and our final excursion for the term will be all about Dr Who. This means I can wear SF t-shirts all term. It also means I can reinforce their story-telling skills without them being too aware or embarrassed that I'm working on stuff they might not have processed fully the first time round.
Possibly most importantly, I announced the term's theme by demonstrating clearly that none of the class are either vampires or werewolves. Even adults can be disappointed at such discoveries, it seems, and I've ruined at least one student's dreams.
The main danger this term is to my TARDIS backpack. Two students are eyeing it off...
July 20, 2016
gillpolack @ 2016-07-20T21:57:00
My good news is that, once I finish three more bits of scheduled work and everything's paid for, I'll be financial right through til the end of September. Possibly even October. This is good, because the ANU hasn't yet advertised any teaching by me. We have a staff meeting next week and all will be clear then (ie it will be clear to them that I'm a lot more alive than last time they saw me).
The bad news is that getting to this desirable financial state meant doing too much teaching, twice. The first day I dealt with it. Today, my teaching was merely moderate for 2 hours in the evening. I was fine for the morning's teaching. This evening, while I taught everything my students needed, I felt that I've done better at getting them engaged. Good but not inspirational, I think. Although for this group I solved some really important basic issues for research for writers and we covered it with hardly any effort whatsoever (they took it in as if it was common knowledge, which is perfect for new stuff), so they got good material, even if it wasn't taught with any brilliance.
This is like the week I went back to work. This week I have done just a bit too much. Given that it will add up to over 25 hours, this is not nearly as worrying as it sounds. I need to do what I did when I first went back to work and be very measured and controlled with the new amount of work. And I need to sleep in for two days running.
I didn't mean to double my working hours. The trouble with the teaching side is that it's at the behest of others and I really don't have that much control over it. And I've gone from frighteningly near the edge financially to not having to worry about groceries for over two months. And I'd like to make that final leap back to normal workload, but I think I need to do it in two stages and neither of them should be this week. Possibly not next week, either. Twenty-five hours isn't bad, after all.
The bad news is that getting to this desirable financial state meant doing too much teaching, twice. The first day I dealt with it. Today, my teaching was merely moderate for 2 hours in the evening. I was fine for the morning's teaching. This evening, while I taught everything my students needed, I felt that I've done better at getting them engaged. Good but not inspirational, I think. Although for this group I solved some really important basic issues for research for writers and we covered it with hardly any effort whatsoever (they took it in as if it was common knowledge, which is perfect for new stuff), so they got good material, even if it wasn't taught with any brilliance.
This is like the week I went back to work. This week I have done just a bit too much. Given that it will add up to over 25 hours, this is not nearly as worrying as it sounds. I need to do what I did when I first went back to work and be very measured and controlled with the new amount of work. And I need to sleep in for two days running.
I didn't mean to double my working hours. The trouble with the teaching side is that it's at the behest of others and I really don't have that much control over it. And I've gone from frighteningly near the edge financially to not having to worry about groceries for over two months. And I'd like to make that final leap back to normal workload, but I think I need to do it in two stages and neither of them should be this week. Possibly not next week, either. Twenty-five hours isn't bad, after all.
July 16, 2016
gillpolack @ 2016-07-17T13:24:00
My morning was market and DS9 with C, which means it was terrific. We had fruit toast and I am supplied with wonderful fresh produce for the week. My fruit is oranges and persimmons. My vegetables are capsicums, cherry tomatoes, sugar snap peas, fennel,spring onions and broccolini. My herbs are parsley, coriander and garlic chives. I lashed out and bought some sour dough bread, so that I can have all this lovely fresh stuff with the various flavours of chicken that are already in my fridge. Two slices of bread with much topping makes an excellent meal, with no work at all. They're not winter dishes. I have rice if I want to turn the same flavours back into winter, but I don't think I do, I think I'm preparing for Spring...
I spent a bit more than I should, but this means I have absolutely no shopping to do until next Saturday, which is good, given that the week looks busy. I'm up to the next level of recuperation and each level takes more time an more energy. And I have just 2 weeks to finish all my July work.
July is normally such a bad month in Canberra. I've had two very nice weeks (if one discounts the bad nights and the fact that I am convalescent and still feel it) which is two more than usual. And I have persimmons. Life is always better with fresh, ripe persimmons.
Last night was actually worse than the night before, but at this moment, I couldn't care less.
I spent a bit more than I should, but this means I have absolutely no shopping to do until next Saturday, which is good, given that the week looks busy. I'm up to the next level of recuperation and each level takes more time an more energy. And I have just 2 weeks to finish all my July work.
July is normally such a bad month in Canberra. I've had two very nice weeks (if one discounts the bad nights and the fact that I am convalescent and still feel it) which is two more than usual. And I have persimmons. Life is always better with fresh, ripe persimmons.
Last night was actually worse than the night before, but at this moment, I couldn't care less.
gillpolack @ 2016-07-16T22:44:00
The pharmacist gave me loads of useful advice yesterday. Alas, it will be another 12 hours before the problem starts to be sorted. That's the bad news.
The good news is that my workshop is booked out. Two workshops in a row, booked out! I still don't know what teaching I'm doing for the ANU this semester, so the rest of my teaching year is a bit of a mystery due to being ill at the precise moment everyone needed me for planning. And there's no teaching interstate this semester because I haven't been scheduled anywhere. Last year I did 3-4 interstate workshops and this year there are none. Such is life.
The weather is still impossibly wintry here. We had a nice day, but it's only three degrees outside right now, so it'll be a chilly night and chilly for the market in the morning. This is relevant to my post, because I need to work out if I need anything from the market for my class. I don't think so. I think I've decided on geology rather than food for tangibles this time round. I used food last time I did a 2 hour workshop in Canberra on a similar subject and I can't rely on there not being anyone from the other workshop. Students tend to like revisiting me, so, in fact, I have to assume that a different approach for that side of things is sensible. The theory remains the same, but it means everyone gets something new.
No other news, there is none. Except that I'm really very tired of nasty symptoms. I'm getting better (and it's obvious that I am when, on a bad day, I still do all my stretching and weights and gentle walking) but I want wellness now, not wellness in 9 months. This means I have officially entered the frustrating stage of getting better. I'd hoped to be able to do a lot more local walking in parks now, but my ankle and my asthma limit me to indoors most days. I get a small walk tomorrow, and a 40 minute one on Monday and 2 20 minute ones on Tuesday, but that's the most outdoors I will experience until the weather and my ankle adjust. I'm working on the ankle, but it's very slow in getting strength (and we don't yet know what's causing it).
I think the theme of my day is whingeing...
The good news is that my workshop is booked out. Two workshops in a row, booked out! I still don't know what teaching I'm doing for the ANU this semester, so the rest of my teaching year is a bit of a mystery due to being ill at the precise moment everyone needed me for planning. And there's no teaching interstate this semester because I haven't been scheduled anywhere. Last year I did 3-4 interstate workshops and this year there are none. Such is life.
The weather is still impossibly wintry here. We had a nice day, but it's only three degrees outside right now, so it'll be a chilly night and chilly for the market in the morning. This is relevant to my post, because I need to work out if I need anything from the market for my class. I don't think so. I think I've decided on geology rather than food for tangibles this time round. I used food last time I did a 2 hour workshop in Canberra on a similar subject and I can't rely on there not being anyone from the other workshop. Students tend to like revisiting me, so, in fact, I have to assume that a different approach for that side of things is sensible. The theory remains the same, but it means everyone gets something new.
No other news, there is none. Except that I'm really very tired of nasty symptoms. I'm getting better (and it's obvious that I am when, on a bad day, I still do all my stretching and weights and gentle walking) but I want wellness now, not wellness in 9 months. This means I have officially entered the frustrating stage of getting better. I'd hoped to be able to do a lot more local walking in parks now, but my ankle and my asthma limit me to indoors most days. I get a small walk tomorrow, and a 40 minute one on Monday and 2 20 minute ones on Tuesday, but that's the most outdoors I will experience until the weather and my ankle adjust. I'm working on the ankle, but it's very slow in getting strength (and we don't yet know what's causing it).
I think the theme of my day is whingeing...
July 14, 2016
gillpolack @ 2016-07-15T11:08:00
Life's revenge on me for boasting is a really bad night. Not bad enough to go back to hospital, and I will going to the chemist later to sort it out. I keep forgetting that bodies have different side-effects from the operation and that they can loop back and cause trouble. Anyhow, I got midnight advice over the phone from a doctor and I'll be fine, but grumbly.
Apart from this, I'm quite happy. I'm seeing a bunch of friends today, and my Wednesday workshop has only one place left. The tickets only went up two days ago and they're already almost gone. This is exceptionally unusual for Canberra in the middle of the coldest winter on record (or maybe just one of the coldest) for it's an evening course and people will freeze. And yet they're coming. In numbers. And, of the two workshops I'm doing this winter, both will have sold out. And all my Wednesday students are turning up, too, despite the cold. For some of the other winter workshops, discounts are being offered to get people along for, not only is it cold, everyone's scared about their futures under this government. It's a bad time economically. And I still have students. I think this means the students need a special treat as part of the workshop. I'm thinking something related to my actual teaching, rather than random chocolates, but I'll see. I have stuff at home (for teaching) that will give my students a real buzz of excitement and will be spot on for the subject.
I have 3 small deadlines today. Not big ones. Probably achievable. I would rather have the day off. If I get ready for everything else immediately, then maybe I can squiggle my work in between the fun things and get it done anyway.
Apart from this, I'm quite happy. I'm seeing a bunch of friends today, and my Wednesday workshop has only one place left. The tickets only went up two days ago and they're already almost gone. This is exceptionally unusual for Canberra in the middle of the coldest winter on record (or maybe just one of the coldest) for it's an evening course and people will freeze. And yet they're coming. In numbers. And, of the two workshops I'm doing this winter, both will have sold out. And all my Wednesday students are turning up, too, despite the cold. For some of the other winter workshops, discounts are being offered to get people along for, not only is it cold, everyone's scared about their futures under this government. It's a bad time economically. And I still have students. I think this means the students need a special treat as part of the workshop. I'm thinking something related to my actual teaching, rather than random chocolates, but I'll see. I have stuff at home (for teaching) that will give my students a real buzz of excitement and will be spot on for the subject.
I have 3 small deadlines today. Not big ones. Probably achievable. I would rather have the day off. If I get ready for everything else immediately, then maybe I can squiggle my work in between the fun things and get it done anyway.
